


white noise

by mysticTwirl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: And running poster, Fluff, Getting Together, Graduation, Inspired by their matching keychains, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:20:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28339110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticTwirl/pseuds/mysticTwirl
Summary: Bokuto had told him why before, while gesturing to the twin Vabo-chans dangling from his bag."It's so neither of them will be lonely," he explains, plain and simple, everything deserved a companion. Akaashi agrees.Bokuto purchases items in pairs.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 25
Kudos: 290





	white noise

**Author's Note:**

> Furudate may or may not have revealed matching bkak keychains and I have decided to run along with [it](https://twitter.com/itsfluffyham/status/1340604003491561472?s=20) (pun intended.)
> 
> If you're coming from twt, happy 2k!

Bokuto had told him why before, while gesturing to the twin Vabo-chans dangling from his bag.

"It's so neither of them will be lonely," he explains, plain and simple, as if the thought should have occurred to Akaashi without lapse; and considering how he knows Bokuto to be, his expectations are not unfounded.

They are exact replicas, a whimsical purchase on Bokuto's part, which resulted in him lacking change to buy a drink with today's lunch. Theatrics then followed, with Bokuto surprised at his empty wallet, and an exasperated Akaashi offering to treat him, just this once.

Bokuto had looked so happy drinking his box of orange juice, so much so that Akaashi had to focus on anything besides the direct sunlight; he stares at the twin Vabo-chans, intertwined.

.

Bokuto spends a couple thousand yen on a claw machine before giving up. Hands in his pocket, he sighs, dejected, as he resigns to abandon his quest and leave his prize behind glass.

It's a scam, they would tell him, as most arcades are known to be. But it's human nature to think of yourself as different, that the woes of the world do not apply to you. To ignore all logic for a self-selected bias.

And Bokuto had really wanted that prize.

Nonetheless, he heads home, already knowing that his sisters will scold him for his unexplained detour. To ease the blow, he decides to pick up ice cream on the way as a peace offering to the goddesses of their household.

He enters the convenience store and grabs a tub; while counting change on one hand, he sees them.

 _Vabo-chan_ \- soft pink, big eyes, just waiting for a new owner. The keyring dangles from a stack of other popular characters, multiple clones of the same items.

Bokuto reaches out to take one, and another gets left behind. He observes the shelf, every other character still has a number remaining, but these Vabo-chans only have each other.

It might be because he had insisted on going to the arcade alone despite the rest of the team needing to finish their homework, or the soft blow from his claw machine defeat. Or maybe his short time by himself had briefly reminded him of another memory- an uphill run to the top, just to turn around and find no one there.

Bokuto shakes his head and wills his thoughts to not to be so silly.

But when the cashier eyes him questioningly, he only has a split second before he reaches for the other keychain and purchases the pair.

They barely both fit in his pocket; while gripping his frozen treat, he runs the rest of the way home.

.

A volleyball follows after, testing the limits of his bag's zipper. Bokuto had apparently wanted the world to know that he was a volleyball player, as if having the V.League's mascot twofold wasn't indication enough. This one came alone and entangled with the pink.

"Here's the other one, Agkaashi," Bokuto holds his hand out, "your bag is so plain, this will make it much cooler."

Akaashi doesn't ponder on Bokuto's impulse to purchase items in pairs, he does, however, resign himself to losing a few coins over another juice box.

"I like how my bag looks, Bokuto-san," but still, he reaches out to take the miniature volleyball, it's still warm from where it had rested on Bokuto's palms.

"But thank you," he ends, before the gift is withdrawn, and he is forced to reveal just how much the sentiment means to him. Akaashi feels his ears warm as he fastens the keychain onto his backpack, Bokuto's stare follows his fingers.

"It looks good!" Bokuto exclaims, and the sun makes itself felt once again.

Akaashi regards the trinket, his mouth moves just as he thinks, "but won't it be lonely?"

A callback from several conversations ago, so particular it could have been easily unheeded. Anybody would regard his inquisition as weird, and him, just a bit silly. But not Bokuto, who matches his fleeting thoughts with sentiments of his own.

"We should just set our bags beside each other during practice and other stuff, so they'll see each other again," he exclaims, plain and simple.

"We're always together, right 'Kaashi? They won't miss each other too much."

Maybe he speaks in poetry, indecipherable riddles that entice the mind to run. Maybe it's Bokuto's honesty, his earnest emotions engrained in the most mundane, that causes Akaashi's heart to stutter. Regardless, the keychain stays on his bag.

.

His heart should really practice the art of being tempered, because the amount of happiness a ball of polymer incites in him needs to have a cap, for his sanity's sake.

Akaashi finds himself fidgeting with the keychain in the privacy of his own classroom, backpack on his lap, patiently awaiting the start of his class.

It gives his fingers a break, something else to release his nerves on before the start of a test, or a subject he doesn't particularly enjoy. Unzipping his bag becomes split second distraction from the chaos, whenever he retrieves a pen or keeps his notebook; there it is- waiting for him.

No one notices a subtle upturn of lips, too fleeting, whenever he finds himself purposely forgetting his eraser so he can tug onto the zipper twice in a row. But some do catch when his eyes linger on the strap, a conversation starter.

"You must really love volleyball, Akaashi-san."

His classmates tell him, and if his ears turn scarlet at the revelation, he claims that it's due to the sun.

.

The volleyballs he finds on one of the displays in a sporting goods store. Bokuto had briefly escaped his sisters' clutches to seek solace in riffling through fancy running shoes he will never buy.

He does grab a new pair of kneepads, and after a brief moment, reaches for a set of socks too. The last ones he had worn had a hole.

It was after extra-practice, another two hours on top of their usual schedule before Akaashi had pointed out that the school was about to close. Bokuto had lost track of time, too focused on how good the ball felt on his palm that day and desperate to have that satisfaction last.

But still, he had felt some shame in letting their time run too long. The exhaustion made itself known on Akaashi- collar now drenched in a deeper shade, eyelids heavy, a slight slant in his back. Why had he not said anything- Bokuto's thoughts pick up.

Akaashi had mentioned a test for this week, was it for tomorrow or the day after? He gets angsty when he doesn't have enough time to study, and his mother will be upset if skips dinner often. It's not like Akaashi to let him get carried away. Did he not tell Bokuto because he was intimidated, or maybe he didn't feel comfortable enough to-

"Bokuto-san," he calls to him, "your sole has a tear."

Bokuto blinks back, "huh?"

"You sock," Akaashi clears his throat, "It must have snagged onto something." They're now on the bench, packing up like clockwork routine, Bokuto hadn't even noticed when they had moved.

At times, when his thoughts get loud and his spiral unravels, Bokuto would find his awareness retreating.

"Oh, there is a hole," he exclaims, as he twists his leg to observe the damage. He misses how Akaashi's eyes widen and head turns at the display.

Akaashi would have not noticed if he was in a hurry to get away. It must mean he isn't trying to leave so soon, which means Bokuto didn't do anything wrong. He's not being a bad senpai, all is well. The spiral recoils and is contained.

"Thanks 'Kaashi," he says, the unintentional reassurance has made him feel lighter.

"I-I," Akaashi stutters, "it's nothing, Bokuto-san," they finish packing their things and start to lock up.

They part at the train station, the walk home feels a bit unsettling, not because of their last interaction, but at the awareness that tugs at Bokuto's heart.

Because Akaashi had seen that little bit in him, something he would have not spotted had he not been looking. And it was with care that he had pointed it out, something as inconsequential as socks, a revelation much bigger than them both.

The walk home is hallowing because Bokuto had felt the tenderness, a complete bird's eye view of how he is perceived. And when the weight of being known makes itself known, moving forward without it makes him feel just a little bit lonely.

In present day, Bokuto regards the shelf of sports themed keychains and spots his prize. Despite at least a dozen on display, he grabs two without hesitation.

.

After the ceremony, Bokuto asks to meet inside the gym. Akaashi has a myriad of feelings, from telling himself not to expect anything, to willing the world not to let Bokuto ask for post-graduation practice. He settles on their bench and waits.

Bokuto comes bursting in, uniform already a mess despite the ceremonial ribbon pinned to his chest. Diploma noticeably absent but Akaashi figures that his family has it for safe keeping.

Bokuto is gasping when he gets there, as if he had sprinted right off stage, as if Akaashi would have left if he had waited too long.

The latter, he knows, will never be true.

"Bokuto-san," he calls out, "please take a moment to compose yourself." While his senior tries to do just that, Akaashi wills his heart to do the same; no expectations.

"Agkaashi, will you toss for me?" Oh no, he curses the world, why must he be endowed with such responsibility at his state of fragility.

"I mean," Bokuto retracts, "not now, my parents will kill me. But after, even when I leave, can you still?"

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi says it slow, granting himself split seconds to think, "you'll have other setters on your new team." Those seconds give him nothing, if there was something more to that statement, it has completely flown over.

"Oh, I know," Bokuto tilts his head, "I was just being silly, I guess that's true."

Akaashi is well aware of his illogical urge to give Bokuto everything, whether it be outwardly or disguised under a layer of exasperation. It's his weakness, one he must unlearn, especially since he's so close to offering a lifetime's worth of tosses.

Calm your dramatics, he tells himself, this is not what Bokuto-san needs.

Admits his inner turmoil, Akaashi doesn't notice Bokuto ruffling through his pockets until a clasped hand reveals itself. Something is hidden within his grip; Akaashi's heart stutters once again.

"I admit my opening line was kinda lame, I was just warming up," Bokuto laughs, it's riddled with nerves.

They're no longer in their gym clothes or jerseys, no more early morning trainings or late hour practices, and no more captain and vice. This Bokuto will be the last he sees in their shared space, as it transitions from theirs to just his.

"I am so used to asking for your tosses, 'Kaashi, and I am lucky you always give 'em to me," the sun peaks out, "even when you make me work for it at times."

It would be selfish for Akaashi to remember their last moments together as the start of loneliness, because Bokuto is here, even if he could be with anyone else right now. No goodbye will ever suffice his greedy heart; but he'll be grateful for whatever he gets.

"It'll be different, I don't think it's going to be bad, or at least that's what I tell myself, since I don't want to worry about things I can't control," a shy scratch of the head, Bokuto's nonchalant manner tries to mask the thought he's put into his worries, so Akaashi grants him the courtesy.

"But between you and me, I am kinda nervous- pretty lame huh? But let's keep that a secret between us."

Akaashi nods and files this with the other hundreds of facts he knows about Bokuto. "Your secret is safe with me."

And maybe he wants to offer something in return, a confession in varying manners, ranging from the romantic in nature, to honest vulnerability. Bokuto has clearly revealed something personal today, and Akaashi is made to ponder on what he needs to hear in return. But it'll take years before Akaashi is able to fully utilize his vocabulary to verbalize his sentiments; today, Bokuto takes reign.

"I know I can trust you, Akaashi," he continues on, "which is why I have another secret to share."

Akaashi takes note of his disheveled state, loose tie and unbuttoned blouse, palm still clutched on his side. His eyes drift towards Bokuto’s collar, searching for a piece of circular plastic on his second row and needs to squint before he finds none.

Oh god, it's happening.

His palms start to get clammy; Akaashi bites his lip to keep his expression neutral. He's about to become a protagonist of a different genre of literature, one he's only dreamed about.

Bokuto isn't talking, he seems to be thinking hard too. Had he ripped his second button prematurely and kept it in his pocket the whole time? Had he been fiddling with it throughout the ceremony, wondering how to give this to Akaashi?

He's unsure how to feel about the progression of their conversation and upset at his inability to console the insecurities Bokuto had been alluding to. How can he expect himself to answer a confession- it would be unfair to Bokuto, considering how selfish his thoughts have been.

"Bokuto-san," he calls out, but has nothing to offer once again. There are some words he so desperately wants to hear but is not ready for. How can he convey that without sounding so fearful.

"You are my best friend, Akaashi," Bokuto tells him, "I am going to miss you."

Everything will be okay, he should reassure. I'll be with you every step of the way, would be the romantic thing to say. I'll miss you too, is the most honest.

"You're my best friend too," he tells him instead, because it encapsulates all the conflicting emotions he feels- from love, to greediness, to sincere pride, an unadulterated devotion to the person who's sparked so much in him.

Bokuto smiles, wide and warm, Akaashi basks in the glow. He holds such a fierce care for him, enough to override his racing thoughts, and comes to the conclusion-

If Bokuto gives him his second button, he'll definitely reject.

Because there are things much bigger out there for Bokuto, greater than anything Akaashi has to offer, by virtue of being young and a work-in-progress himself. There are things he wants for Bokuto which he can't provide, but he'll push him forward, encourage him to reach out and take with all his might.

So, when Bokuto clears his throat and finally extends his hand towards him, Akaashi has his rejection speech planned out.

_Bokuto-san, the world is so big._

His grip uncurls.

_And my love is not selfish._

To reveal, Vabo-chan.

 _Huh,_ Akaashi blinks, big beady eyes stare back at him. Pinky and round, silver keyring still attached.

For all his tendencies to overthink, this development is not one Akaashi could have expected. But considering how he knows Bokuto to be, he should always be on his guard.

Bokuto clears his throat and reaches for his hand, they both turn red when their fingers touch. Akaashi lets himself be held.

I've got a secret, Bokuto's eyes tell him. He holds Akaashi's hand with his right, and entrusts the Vabo-chan with his left, securing him into the lifelines of his new owner, before enclosing Akaashi's hand around the figure.

Bokuto stands there for a moment, keeping Akaashi's palm sandwiched between his two hands; letting them bask in the moment between everything they may or may not be letting go.

In the silence that surrounds them, and the loudness of his actions, Akaashi hears.

_I get lonely too._

And he knows this because Bokuto had told him, some things just came in pairs. It had eased his heart to know that his keychain had a companion, Bokuto's feelings worked in the gentlest ways. And now they'll be separating, one to look after Akaashi in his stead.

It's seems as though they shared the same whirlwind of feelings, neither quite possessing the means to verbalize this. The complexity of caring for someone deeply but having dreams to chase, of pretending not to know for the sake of timing.

Today, Bokuto needs a friend, and Akaashi can be that for him.

"I guess we'll just have to see each other again, so they won't miss each other too much." He bites his cheek to keep his smile contained. His inner poet whispers a million other confidences to say, but the way Bokuto beams tells him that he’s said the right thing.

Later, Bokuto will lament on the fact that his uniform had lost a couple of buttons from the wash, and he had lacked the foresight to check during last night’s preparation.

Akaashi will laugh at the absurdity of the situation and tell him that his mishap was not obvious in pictures; conveniently leaving out the spiral it had caused him. But his heart is filled with relief, maybe this was just the world's way of telling them to wait for another day.

When they pack up to leave, he tugs on his zipper twice to welcome his new companion.

.

Zip down.

The future is when Bokuto grabs his shoes from the compartment of his training bag. A new number on his chest and an unfamiliar court to mark the start of his career. His heart is already doing spikes, responding to the distant roar of the crowd and the responsibility on his shoulders. He breathes in.

Hundreds of miles away, Akaashi fumbles through his backpack to retrieve his lucky pencil. Mind swirling with equations, English phrases, and scientific facts, hands a bit too shaky due to his first taste of caffeine. The exam proctor has yet to enter so he has a few minutes to himself. Akaashi thinks of universities, test answers, and things he can control, and breathes out.

On both ends, Vabo-chan looks at them, as if silently judging the plight of their humans.

Zip up.

They both laugh, compartmentalize the nerves and jitters in their system to save for another day. It'll become a story to share once the tidal passes, just another obstacle to overcome.

Coach calls the team to gather, the test officiant enters the room; both set aside their bags to answer where they're beckoned. This part of their lives they have to conquer alone, but never lonely, company is always close by.

The future continues until they reach a midpoint, a time where goals are partially met, enough to allow them to settle into a space to call their own. A future wherein an MSBY bag sits next to a leather briefcase, Vabo-chans finally side by side to end the day.

_I get lonely too, (but not when I am with you.)_

**Author's Note:**

> Once again inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/itsfluffyham/status/1340604003491561472?s=20) happy thing.
> 
> Wanted to quietly celebrate 2K on twitter and all the friends I've made along the way. It's been fun writing, laughing, and clowning our faves, definitely a highlight of 2020. The next installment of my series will come, hopefully, early next year. Happy holidays to you.
> 
> Find me at [twitter](https://twitter.com/itsfluffyham) | [tumblr](https://fluffysparklyham.tumblr.com/). See you there!


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